


Always Knowing What to Do...Priceless

by GinnyK



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Death, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3596142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyK/pseuds/GinnyK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Josh's Dad dies suddenly the night of the Illinois Primary, Donna is there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Knowing What to Do...Priceless

**Author's Note:**

> I have a friend Matthew at work and we are like Josh and Donna in many, many ways. Although I do bring him coffee every morning.
> 
> I wrote this about 6 years ago, a few days after I sat with him as his sister called to say their mom had passed away. I like to think I helped him that day.

“Josh, your father died.” Those were the hardest four words I’d ever had to say to anyone. Two seconds ago Josh was dancing around the room, celebrating what was probably his greatest political victory so far, although I think bigger things are yet to come. His expression falls in an instant and I can see the blood drain from his face. I need to do something and I need to do it now. I grab Josh’s hand and pull him towards the doorway. It takes a pretty good tug to get him going, he seems rooted to the spot. Sam and Toby glance in our direction, I shake my head a little and they go back to their celebrating.

Once in the hallway, which is thankfully and very surprisingly empty, Josh stops dead in his tracks. He looks down at our hands which are still clasped together. I know him well enough to know he’s trying to say something but he’s just not getting the words out. The fact that he’s shaking like a leaf and is incredibly pale is starting to scare me.

“Josh, lean against the wall for a minute,” I suggest as I debate yelling for Sam or Toby, I’m not sure if I need back up right now or not. He looks like he wants to bolt down the hall. “The 30 seconds I’m going to make you stand here are not going to make a difference in the grand scheme of things. Please stand still for a minute,” I plead. 

Josh takes half a step back towards the wall. “Good. Take a deep breath for me.” He makes a half hearted effort. “Do it again,” I whisper as I step closer, putting my hands on his shoulders. Josh leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. We breathe deeply a few times until motion in the hallway catches my attention. Sam comes out of the suite where we had been celebrating just a minute before. Guess he didn’t understand my non-verbal plea a minute earlier. But in reality I’m kind of glad he came looking for us, I think maybe I’m in over my head. He heads for us with an understandably confused look on his face. I glance at Josh and the look on his face says, get me out of here. I pull his key card from my pocket, hand it to him and give him a gentle push in the direction of his room with one hand while holding Sam slightly at bay with the other.

“What’s going on?” Sam asks as he runs his hand through his hair and watches Josh go into his room. “Josh okay?”

“His mother just called, his father died of complications during his chemo session today,” I explain as I slump against the wall myself. Sam is speechless for a second and starts to move towards Josh’s room. “Don’t, just let him be,” I beg. Sam must see the pleading in my eyes this time because he just takes a deep breath and kisses my forehead. 

“Do you want me to tell people?” he asks as he glances back towards the suite. The sound of everyone celebrating can be heard in the hallway now; things are getting louder and louder.

“Start with Leo and see what he suggests,” I mutter. “I have to…..” I trail off as I start to walk towards Josh’s room.

Josh has left the door open a crack and I’m able to go in the room without disturbing him. I really have no idea how I’m going to find him. I give a little knock to let him know I’m coming in as I push the door open all the way. He’s sitting in one of the chairs set around the little round table in the corner of the room, with his cell phone tucked under his chin he’s jotting something down on a scrap of paper. Without so much as a second thought, I cross the room and sit on the arm of his chair, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. He doesn’t pull away, instead he leans into me a little. I press a quick kiss to the top of his head as he talks a mile a minute. I’m not sure who he’s talking to, from the tone of his voice I’m pretty sure it’s not his mom. I stand up before he stands himself and sends me toppling from my perch.

“I need to make plane reservations,” he mutters as he stands up quickly, almost knocking over the chair in an effort to reach his laptop which is currently sitting on the bed. I right the chair and grab the laptop for him. “Can you pack some stuff?” he asks quietly as he pulls his tie off. I just nod, grateful for something to do at the moment. 

I leave him with the computer and head for the bathroom to start packing things in there. Things are spread out all over the counter, the tub and the back of the toilet. In the short period of time I’ve worked with Josh I’ve learned a few things, first of which is….he’s basically a slob. The second thing I’ve learn is, he’s basically one of the “good guys”, a dying breed I’m afraid. I put things in his new toiletry kit I just ordered for him last week, after his old one had an unfortunate accident involving a can of shaving cream and a cross country flight. I go to toss the bottle of Advil in the bag when I reconsider that and set it aside to put in his backpack, the likelihood of him needing some in the next few hours is pretty high.

Josh is typing furiously on the computer as I head for the closet to grab his garment bag. “Do you want me to pack everything or just what you’ll need?”

He thinks for a few seconds. “Just what I need for a few days. Can you take the rest of my stuff to….to….where the hell are we going next?” he asks with a weary smile.

“Honestly, I’m not sure where we’re going, somewhere in California. But I can take your stuff,” I assure him as I set the garment bag on the bed and reach to get his black suit out of the closet. The selection of ties he’s brought with him isn’t the best, but I manage to find two that will work.

“Josh, where’s your carry on bag?” I ask as I grab some things out of the dresser. He points to the corner by the window.

Fifteen minutes later, his bags are packed and he has secured a flight. He’s in the bathroom and I’m trying to figure out what the heck to do next. We’re been on autopilot for the last 20 minutes. We haven’t talked about what happened at all. Josh has shown very little emotion and that’s scaring me at the moment. He comes out of the bathroom looking pale and a little shell shocked. I think things are about to hit him…hard. I glance at the flight information on the notepad and I figure he’s got about 2 hours before he needs to head for the airport.

He starts to pace around the room and I sit on the edge of the bed and let him be for a minute or two. Finally as he passes by me for the fourth or fifth time I reach and grab his hand. “Josh,” I whisper. It only takes the sound of his name for him to stop short. He doesn’t pull away but he is stubbornly avoiding looking me in the eye. I stand up and take a hold of his chin to get him to look at me. “Tell me what you need,” I whisper as I let go of his chin. He shrugs his shoulders, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I can tell he has no idea what he wants or needs at the moment. So I guess it’s up to me to decide. Trouble is, I have no idea either. Going on autopilot I steer him towards the bed. He sits down on the very edge and leans over with his elbows on his knees. He rubs at his eyes as I sit next to him. The sideways glance he gives me lets me know that his holding everything in has just ended. After kissing his cheek I scoot up to the head of the bed and reach for the box of tissues on the nightstand. Leaning against the headboard I open my arms up and Josh all but crawls over to me, collapsing in my embrace. He sobs like I haven’t heard anyone sob in a very, very long time. I try my best to keep my emotions under control while comforting him. God only knows what I’m whispering to him, doesn’t matter anyway, I don’t really think he’s hearing anything anyway.

Eventually his sobs slow down to an occasional hiccup but he seems to have no intention of letting go of me. And quite honestly, that’s fine with me. He kicks off his shoes and curls up a little more. It’s as if he wants to bury himself in me, to have me put a bubble around him to protect him the harsh reality of what has happened. And I’m only too happy to do that for him. We have an hour to forget, to put ourselves in a little cocoon, to block out the rest of the world. I’m amazed his cell phone isn’t ringing every 30 seconds. I think Sam’s out there running some interference for us and for that I am very grateful. 

Josh’s sniffling stops and he sits up a little to blow his nose before settling back down with his head on my shoulder. “Do you need anything?” I ask as I press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Just this,” he whispers as he reaches for my hand.

Great, now I need tissues for myself.

We stay curled up in each other’s arms, the faint sounds of the celebration can be heard drifting down the hallway but Josh doesn’t seem to notice for the longest time.

“Do you think I should….?” he trails off as he points in the general direction of the suite where everyone is gathered together.

“Only if you want to,” I whisper as I rub his back a little.

“I can’t,” he says as the tears threaten to start all over again.

“It’s okay. Sam’s telling Leo and Gov. Bartlet.”

“I should go see Leo,” Josh says as he suddenly sits up. Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed he stands and sways. I grab him before he ends up on the floor. 

“If you want to talk to Leo he can come down here. Do you want to see him?” Josh nods as makes another attempt to stand. This attempt goes much better and I let go of his hand. He heads for the bathroom, handing me his cell phone to call Leo.

 

There’s a knock on the door what seems like instantaneously, I don’t think Leo was still celebrating with the rest of the group. “He’s in there,” I say as I point towards the bathroom.

“How is he?” Leo asks as he leans against the air conditioning unit.

“Hanging in there. We just went through half a box of tissues. He’s calm now.”

“Is he okay to fly home alone?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” I assure him and for the first time I actually believe it. “I’ll just leave you two alone,” I mutter as Josh comes out of the bathroom. He looks marginally better, having splashed some water on his face and tucked his shirt tails back in. I quickly go out into the hall realizing as soon as the door closes behind me that I’m not wearing any shoes.

As the door closes behind me, I realize I have no plan at the moment. I walk towards the sound of the celebration, not really in the mood to join in but not really in the mood to be alone either. The door is wide open and the liquor is flowing freely as I enter. Unfortunately, as soon as I enter the room the decibel level drops by half as all eyes turn to me in sympathy, for information. I turn and leave the room as quickly as I entered. But I’ve been spotted by the one person I was trying to avoid, Gov. Bartlet. Don’t get me wrong, I adore the man but I have no idea what to say to him on a normal day, forget about now.

“Donnatella,” he says quietly, my name rolling off his tongue in a perfect Italian accent.

“Sir.”

“How’s Josh?”

“He’s okay, I guess. Leo’s with him now.”

“Josh flying home tonight?” he asks as he leads me towards the couch at the end of the hallway. We sit at opposite ends. All I really want to do is curl up in a little ball but I sit “properly” as my mother would say.

“Yes. He needs to leave soon,” I say as I glance at my watch.

“Tell him to take all the time he needs. The campaign will manage without him for as long as it takes,” Governor Bartlet assures me. We sit in slightly uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Actually, I’m sure I’m the only one who is uncomfortable. “Go check on him,” he says as we look up to see Leo heading down the hall. I smile and pat Governor Bartlet’s hand as I get up. Leo smiles too, pats my arm and sits down to talk to his candidate, no doubt talking about strategy for the next set of primaries.

Josh is sitting by the window, looking out at the Chicago skyline when I get back to the room. His bags are lined up by the door and his coat is neatly folded on the bed. I sit on the arm of his chair, resting my hand on his shoulder and my cheek on the top of his head.

“Thank you, for everything,” he whispers.

“I didn’t do all that much,” I whisper back.

“You did more in the last two hours than you could ever imagine,” he says quietly as he turns his head to press a kiss on the back of my hand. 

“You need to leave,” I point out as I glance at his watch. He nods and take a deep breath.

I stand and pull Josh to his feet. We gather up his things and he hands me his key card. I grab his backpack while he picks up everything else. I glance out in the hall, praying for a clear path to the elevator. My prayers are answered and we get on the elevator alone. Josh slumps in the corner and lets out a ragged breath. “I’m okay,” he says, knowing there in no way in hell I am going to believe that.

“Do you want me to go with you to the airport?” I ask, realizing I hadn’t asked him that before. He just shakes his head. I let his heavy backpack slide to the floor as I pull him into a hug. We cling to each other until the chime sounds and the car comes to a stop. I let him go after pressing a kiss to his cheek, a kiss that lasts a fraction of a second longer than I usually allow.

Once in the lobby I steer Josh into a chair while I arrange for a cab to the airport.

Ten minutes later, with a quick hug, I deposit Josh into the cab. He promises to call when he lands and then again when he arrives at his mom’s house. With my arms wrapped around myself I watch as the taxi disappears around the corner. I head back inside and move in slow motion towards the elevator.

By the time I get up to our floor I am in a complete fog. I am literally lost; I have no idea what to do right now, what I should be doing right now. I’m on the verge of completely falling apart, yet I’m not sure why. I mean, I never met Noah Lyman. I’ve spoken to him on the phone a few times and heard plenty of stories about him but I never had the chance to meet the man in person. I guess for the last two hours I’ve been so intent on making sure Josh was cared for and now, for the moment, my job is over. 

What’s next, as Governor Bartlet would say.

Everyone should be heading for the ballroom soon to hear the Governor give his speech. I should be there; Josh and I should be there. But now it’s just me and I don’t even feel like going. 

As the elevator door closes, I know where I want to be, where I need to be.

The lights are still on in Josh’s room, his half finished bottle of water sits on the night stand, this morning’s paper is on the table and his Yale sweatshirt is on the end of the bed. I could have sworn I packed that for him.

I turn out all but the light next to the bed. With a tug I pull the clip from my hair before slipping my sweater off over my head. I put on the Yale sweatshirt and curl up on the bed, under the covers. Hugging the pillow I allow myself to cry. For what, I’m not too sure. But being here in this room, wearing Josh’s sweatshirt gives me just a little bit of comfort. The same comfort I apparently gave him over the last few hours.

When my tears stop I reach for the remote and the half finished bottle of water. I flick on CNN to watch the coverage of the festivities in the ballroom downstairs. I just can’t bring myself to go down there. And I think everyone will understand.

As I curl up my cell phone chirps with an incoming text message.

************

You are more valuable than you’ll ever know. Josh

************

The coverage from the ball room starts and I watch with pride as Governor Bartlet takes his place at the podium.

“Tonight, what began on the commons in Concord, Massachusetts, as an alliance of farmers and workers, of cobblesmen and tinsmiths, of statesmen and students, of mothers and wives, of men and boys, lives two centuries later as America! My name is Josiah Bartlet, and I accept your nomination for the Presidency of the United States!”


End file.
